Burn
by InDeepDarkWood
Summary: In a world of peace, the warning given to RiverClan's leader by Leopardstar has the ability to destroy it all. What did it mean? Can the words be stopped, and by who? The eyes of StarClan watch the territories, waiting for it all to burn, and the little kit is growing up to face a destiny she doesn't want.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Well hello there, glad to see you've stopped by. This is my first fanfiction, and I'm hoping you'll like it, and most importantly, review it! I really appreciate reviews, they're a great way to get feedback! Just a little info about this tale; it's set in the original territory of the Clans, many years after the deaths of Firestar etc., and told as though the other sagas didn't occur. This isn't because I don't like the rest, I just love the old territory! So anyway, enjoy!**

"_Surprise is the warrior's greatest weapon" - - - Into the Wild._

The roar of the waterfall overwhelmed the tiny squeaks that were coming from the direction of the shrubs. How could anyone hear them, over such a din? How could anyone attempt to even think that, while the water ran turbulent beside the banks, there was some carnivore very much trying to outdo it? No one, not normally, would spare a second thought to the waterfall, except to maybe admire its simplicity and its beauty. It was beautiful, the way it glistened in the sunlight, and sparkled against the rocks as it splashed down into the gorge, it turbulent waters churning and licking at the land that contained it. It had a wildness to it that artists and hikers enjoyed to look at, a testament of the small wonders of nature, this waterfall in the countryside.

But all that beauty was lost in the eyes of the tomcat, as he sat in the shrubs, thinking.

He thought quite a lot to be fair, about everything from the cache of food back at his camp, to whether kits were ready to become apprentices, to what cats he felt deserved to go to Gatherings. It was his job to think, and to act upon those thoughts in whatever way he deemed fit. He did his job well too, was always timely, always fair, and above all, always knew the right decision to be made with whatever situation came across his paws. He had prided himself on being unable to be surprised, and emitted an air of cool, calm collectiveness that his Clan liked. It seemed though, he reflected, his tail twitching in annoyance, razor sharp against the air, that his pride was taking a crushing blow, the likes of which he could never recover from.

He glanced down at the culprits of his blow, the source of the squeaking sound that seemed louder than the waterfall to the tom's ears. They flattened against his head, other hairs poking into the sensitive inner area and making it as uncomfortable as possible for him. Two small kits, tiny in comparison to even his leg, rolled into each other until their fur melted together, and all that distinguished them were the two pink mouths that gaped open and squeaked their displeasure at being under a shrub, by the banks of a waterfall that successfully managed to get its spray on top of the plants. He couldn't be angry about that though, since it was able to maintain the shrub growth all year round.

How old were they anyway? He gave them a tentative prod with his paw, his claws safely sheathed. He was a tom after all, who had no mate, and also no kits. He was not exactly known for his dealing with the youngest members of the Clan until they were a little more…lively. It wasn't entirely his fault, he reasoned with himself. Queens generally didn't appreciate awkward paws in an already full nursery. A quick look in to congratulate was all they wanted. Why would he examine kits anyway? They were all the same, size wise at least, while nestled against their mother. He wished he had now.

What was he supposed to do with them? The loner had been in a bit of a rush when she left him with the two, only a brief while ago. The sun wasn't even fully up. He dropped his head, giving the two bundles a cautious sniff. They smelled of cat, as opposed to Clan. They would be recognised as frauds instantly. It made him a little sad to think of that. But it had been done before, even in his Clan, though that was a long time ago, in a different time. Now was a time of peace between the four. Did that go so far as to extend the welcome to two loner cats? He had to think a bit longer. He had time after all. He was known for his disappearances to 'think'. It wasn't questioned, at least out loud.

He could always just leave them out here. Their mother would never know.

His head shot up from the two kits in surprise at where his mind was wandering to. Leave them? Alone? Defenceless? The perfect prey for some hunting bird? Great Starclan, how could he even remotely think such a thing! So much for being a fair and just cat. His tail twitched again, curling itself slightly around the kits. He couldn't let them die. Kits were a gift, and he would never turn his nose up at a gift. So they had to stay, but how could he pass them off as his Clan members? More importantly, how could he pass them off _to _his Clan members? "Think, mousebrain!" he hissed to himself, the sound lost to the water, but the words clear in his mind. Had to remember, to try and remember the things he had been thought when he was a little older than the two bundles at his paws. He had to remember the elders' stories, and see if there was a way around his predicament.

It came to him suddenly, as if Starclan themselves had placed the idea in his head. Maybe they had performed that action. Maybe they saw something in the two kittens that the tom could never even dream of. It was a simple idea, but brilliant because of it. It had happened before, but so long ago that no one would remember, and no one would even think to question the queen on her litter, for fear of retribution in the form of harsh words and sharp claws. He purred to himself, pleased that his thinking had brought about such a foolproof idea, and bent down, picking the two kits up at once in his jaws. They squirmed a little as he adjusted his grip, then settled quietly into the swinging motion of his walk. She would take them. She loved him too much to deny his wishes. The spotted tom picked up his pace, angling for camp and avoiding the pathway he knew the morning patrol would take.

He thanked Starclan that he had put off Dreampaw's warrior ceremony till tonight. There were no prying eyes, eager to please, to see him enter the camp through the quieter entrance and head toward the nursery. A purr, so soft it could have been mistaken for the light breeze that tickled the chins' of cats, sounded. Whitetail lay in the nursery, her nest consisting of sticks lined with rabbit fur, and mouse fur and moss, her long tail that was tipped with black curling around two squirming bundles in a loving fashion, watching her kits suckle with a tender expression. She glanced up at the sound that had rumbled from the tom's throat.

"Runningstar, good mor…" the sound trailed off into nothing, her head tilting to view the kits hanging from his mouth with a puzzled expression. He watched her nose scrunch up as she sniffed, her eyes widening like saucers. Padding over to her carefully, his paws light to avoid waking the other queen that lay sleeping in the corner, he dropped the two in front of her, giving them a nose as they began to mew. "They need milk," he stated, as though that explained everything, "And you have some to spare." He felt a shiver twitch through him, like a sense of déjà vu, like history was repeating itself only he wasn't to know that. It was the same feeling he experienced when he shared tongues with Starclan at Highstones. Runningstar looked at the queen's face, searching for an answer that he knew she would give him, but he hoped for the right reasons, and not just because he was her leader.

"You're right, I have plenty of milk to spare," she agreed, and he released the breath he had been holding. They were a little larger than her own, and the tom realised that they were in fact older than he had anticipated. Still, they would be treated just like her kits, and therefore would begin at their age. It was only fair, and, as he well knew, he was a fair cat, and a fair leader. "I won't forget this kindness Whitetail," he answered with a dip of his head, watching her paw the two larger kits closer to get at her milk, "But I would appreciate if a word wasn't mentioned. I don't want Riverclan to judge kits that did no wrong, just because of the parents' actions." His tail flicked from side to side, causing a stray feather to shake loose from the roof branches and fall gently to the ground.

"What actions?" Whitetail asked, her tail reaching out to include the two kits now, curling it protectively over their fur, "I have done nothing wrong Runningstar. These are _my_ kits." The queen slowly brought her elegant white head down to rest beside her tail tip. The tom purred, relief apparent in his eyes, and he brought a paw up to poke the rump of the dirty white coloured kit. "That's Cotton," he informed her, before prodding the striped and spotted sibling, "And that's Swift." He could at least tell her that much, and save her the bother of having to figure out names for the offspring that were not her own, without having to ask her mate. They were not his choice of course, but the loner's, spoken to him just before she left. Her streaking away into the distance had sent the curious thought that she was running from a saliva-drooling pack of dogs, but she had remembered to inform him of her kits' names before that specific analogy entered his head.

Whitetail half-nodded, her chin touching the ground in a bobbing fashion. "I've decided names for them Runningstar. Rosekit, Lionkit…Cottonkit and…Swiftkit." The leader nodded his approval, expressing a gratitude for the accepting queen. They were good names, strong names, and appropriate names. Riverclan needed these kits, and needed the she-cat for that reason. Whitetail had always been a good warrior and good Clan member. She would raise the kits right. Runningstar moved back the way he came, his tail continuing to twitch. He had mentored her well, if he did say so himself. Padding over to the river that flowed along the edge of the camp, deathly calm in comparison to its predecessor, the waterfall, he dipped his head down to lap some water. All that thinking had taken it out of him.

_She will bring destruction, and she will bring fire. Your world will burn and only she can save you._

The tom almost yowled in surprise as he stared at the water, amber eyes that were not his own staring back at him, the dappled head rigid in the river. He knew her. He had met her when he shared tongues with Starclan. His fur bristled slightly as his hackles rose. Her words echoed in his head, the rumbling sound unmistakeable to his ears. "Leopardstar," he breathed softly, his green eyes fixed on her. He heaved out a breath as she remained silent in the water. "Destruction? Burning? You need to tell me more…" he continued, knowing it was fruitless, knowing he would only be told just enough.

_Only she can save you._

Runningstar blinked, and the reflection was his own again. He swiped his paw through the water in annoyance, the droplets glinting in the sun. Who was she? Was it his own life that was in danger? Was this a personal thing, or something that could affect the whole Clan? His claws dug into the soft ground of the bank absentmindedly; he hadn't even realised they had unsheathed. Another sigh heaved from his jaws. That 'will' certainly sounded certain. Was he even able to stop this?

Only she can save you.

Only she…

But how?


	2. Chapter 2 :: Thrush

**A/N :: Hello all! Me again. Just here to say thank you kindly for the reviews given, and I hope you enjoy this chapter! Also, apologies for the delay; it is Christmas after all, cut me some slack. Reviews are always welcome. Oh, and just as a side note, I unfortunately do not own Warriors, nor am I one of the writers under the Erin Hunter pen name...**

"_You're going to find Tigerstar. Against that fiend, every cat is helpless." - - - Fading Echoes_

"Eww Swiftkit, that's horrible!" Rosekit sat up and began to wail loudly, her squeaks occasionally becoming deeper, signalling the voice that the cat would one day have when she matured. Swiftkit glanced back at the smaller of the two, puzzled at the words, and a little annoyed. Her yowling would scare off her surprise before any chance of showing it off to their mother could be had. All she was trying to do was show Rosekit the thrush eating a snail, delighted with the idea that the two could present the scene to Whitetail together. What was wrong with that? For some reason, the other kit just wanted to sit there and groom herself, just to make herself look admirable to their campmates. It wasn't any fun. Swiftkit wanted to go out and explore the world that was around them. The RiverClan nursery was quite possibly the worst place to be located, in the she-cat's head. The whole length of the river was to be seen on the long stretch, and she couldn't go and look at any of it.

The striped kit looked back at her find. She could catch it, and bring it back. Everyone would be so proud of her, making her first kill and not even an apprentice yet! Whitetail would be so happy that one of her kits was being honoured. Swiftkit, the thrush catcher! It could work. She could even try and sample the snail that the bird had caught, though she doubted the slimy creature would taste any way nice to her tongue. Maybe they would let her eat it, all for herself. Of course, she wouldn't. She would share it with her family, and perhaps RiverClan's leader. Her body folded down towards the ground as she continued to stare at the thrush, her tiny claws catching in the dirt by the bank, and she took a step forward in a prowling manner.

Swiftkit sighed and stood back up to her full height, which was in actuality quite short. It was no use anyway. She was daydreaming yet again. Her daydream had forgotten to include the fact that she was on her side of the river, while the thrush was on the other, digging through the mud in relative safety. She was only just learning how to swim, and her mother would let them put so much as a paw in the deeper waters, where the current was strongest. Maybe Rosekit had the right idea, grooming herself to pass the time away. It certainly would beat pining for something that wasn't going to happen for a few moons at least. She glanced down at her paws, only noticing now that she had entered the soggy area before land became water, and her paws resembled the colour of her mother's tail tip.

"Swiftkit, what happened to your legs? The mud monster try to drag you away?"

"I got distracted by the thrush, it's not my fault." The she-cat looked around to the speaker sheepishly. Silverfur, the medicine cat, tilted her head sceptically.

"You're blaming a thrush on this? You should really stick to the mud monster story, mousebrain."

"I don't believe in him; he's just a silly story for kits!"

"I think you are forgetting that _you_ are a kit, Swiftkit."

The grey she-cat shook her head in amusement as the younger lifted her head stubbornly. "Do you know where Brightkit is? Firepelt said she wasn't feeling well," she meowed, glancing around the nursery for the sole kit of the other queen. Swiftkit shook her head in response, climbing out of the mud as she did so and turning her back on the thrush. "Sorry. She might be at the Elder's den with Lionkit. He likes bringing her there." Since the younger kit had started to explore the camp, Swiftkit's brother appeared to have taken on the role of guide for Brightkit. The tortoiseshell followed the larger around with a strange sort of idolisation, a fact that Swiftkit couldn't understand. Lionkit was only a few moons older than her! He wasn't even an apprentice, let alone a warrior, and as his sibling, she knew that he was no cat to be idolised. He took part in teasing Rosekit just as much as she did. _And _he never groomed himself. Worst of all, in the eyes of any good Clan member – Swiftkit included herself in this category – he _talked_ when Runningstar was speaking to the whole Clan; even though the kits were not allowed take part in gatherings, they still listened through the nursery wall.

He was setting a terrible example for Brightkit, clearly.

Silverfur nodded at the words, and followed the little kit's advice in heading toward the elders' home, almost colliding with Cottonkit in the process. The white kit skidded around her and mewed an apology, before racing towards his two siblings. "Cottonkit! Look at this," Swiftkit bounded up to meet her brother, eager to show him the thrush, but when she looked back around across the river, the bird was gone, along with its meal, and all that was left was a muddy bank that looked just like the one they stood on. "Sister…what am I supposed to be looking at here? You know I've seen the other side of the river. Are you pointing out Sunning Rocks? Cause yes, I have seen them too." Cottonkit's tone was deadpan as he tried to figure out what he was supposed to look at.

"Oh, foxdung! It's gone. It was a thrush," Swiftkit replied, her oversized tail lashing furiously. Cottonkit mewed in amusement. "A silly old thrush? That's your big surprise? I thought it was going to be something _exciting_." Swiftkit twisted her head to face the other, letting out a low hiss of annoyance. "It's not silly, Cottonkit!" she mrrowed, leaping towards her brother to tackle him to the ground. The two kits tumbled into the muddy area, Swiftkit having the element of surprise. It trumped her brother's larger size and she ended up rolling on top of him, his white fur squashed into the ooze as her paws sank into the hairs. The fluffy kit yowled in protest. "Get off me, fish-head!" The she-cat pressed her face close to his, her eyes staring into his for a brief moment, before she pounced away, light on her feet as she danced around her brother. The blue-eyed kit picked himself up, his nose scrunched up in annoyance.

"What did I do?" Swiftkit asked, prancing out of paw's reach, ready to race away if Cottonkit wished to retaliate, "And don't call me a fish-head. _You're _the fish-head." It was widely known that most heads were bony with textures that were unsuitable for kits. Most RiverClan cats associated fish heads with an 'acquired' taste, that came after moons of eating, but the term of insult used as kits tended to stick, at least, in the case of this particular Clan. "That wasn't very nice Swiftkit." The siblings looked up to see Rosekit bound over, her grooming practice abandoned now that it was clear the two were going to play fight around her. "Cottonkit's all dirty now. Mother is going to be angry," she added as the tom shook his pelt, releasing some mud droplets, but still resembling a tabby in colour. The sisters kept their distance from the spray, Swiftkit bracing herself to run as Cottonkit moved towards her. He prodded her casually on her front paw, giving a quick nod towards their sister. "Let's get her," he whispered.

"Charge! After Tigerstar!"

Rosekit squeaked as the two pelted towards her, mud flying under their paws. She turned, and raced out of the nursery as the larger kits gained on her. "I'm Leopardstar!" Swiftkit yowled, panting as she tried to catch the other white kit, so like their mother in appearance. She would be as fast and as great as the leader from the elders' tales, if she could catch her sister. She ran from the bank, her eyes fixed on the form running in front of her, sprinting through the tangle of brambles that protected the nursery from the wind, and predators. The camp was a mass of cats, due to a recent return of hunters and territory patrols. Rosekit flew under the paws of a large grey tom, and Swiftkit followed her, almost bashing into the tom as he moved in surprise to view the white kit streak away. "Sorry Stonecloud!" Swiftkit tripped over her paws as she apologised, digging her claws into the ground to prevent her head connecting with Stonecloud's hind leg. "Be careful!" he admonished, although it was a little late, as the kit had already gathered herself together and catapulted after her prey.

Weaving through cats, she searched for her sister, losing sight of Cottonkit in the process. She imagined she was in among the trees in the ThunderClan territory only across the river, only, in this instance, the trees were moving and trying to stop her from reaching what she came for. The trees were enemies too! Swiftkit dodged flicking tails and bickering warriors, attempting to be stealthy and failing. It was just easier to run around as fast as possible through the crowd until she found Rosekit, or at the very least, Cottonkit. She spied the former slinking around the fresh kill pile, her head darting around to check for her pursuers. Swiftkit's legs felt like lead from her race around the camp, not used to all this activity, especially in an area that was so much bigger than the nursery. Still, even with the complication of tired paws, she was not about to give up on defeating the powerful Tigerstar, and bring glory and honour to RiverClan, and all that it stood for. Wasn't that part of their motto, after all?

She raced towards her sister, and pounced from behind, paws outstretched to wrap around the kit in a crushing hug, the two bowling over. Rosekit began to wail, but the sound was abruptly cut off as they hit the ground and both had the wind knocked out of them. "I…got...Tiger…star!" Swiftkit huffed out, intending the words to find Cottonkit, wherever he was. One paw still wrapped around Rosekit, the striped cat rolled over, coughing in order to regain her breath. She came nose to nose with a mouse, its eyes wide open and glassy as they stared at her, and only then glanced around her, realising what she had done in claiming her prize. "Oh no," she whispered to herself, recoiling her paw from Rosekit, and allowing the other kit to observe the damage they had caused. "Look what you've done, mousebrain!"

The fresh kill pile, so neatly stocked up by the returning hunters, and arranged in a pile out of the way of the hustle and bustle of camp mates, and in a fashion that prevented something from getting accidentally stood on and ruined, was no longer in an orderly manner. Instead, it was littered all around the two kits. Swiftkit hadn't even noticed rolling into the fur and feathers that were bundled up together when she attacked her sister. She cringed at the sight, and dropped her head to stare at her paws, suddenly fascinated by the sheathing and unsheathing of claws she was involved in. "Maybe nobody has seen it, Rosekit," she pondered, though that was a pretty slim form of hope, "Maybe we can fix it, and tidy up the pile again." She brought her head back up to face her sister, a little surprised at the idea she had just formed. It seemed so simple that had she been older, it would have been the first and most logical thing to occur to her. But she was not older; she was a kit, and one that had the habit of running in the opposite direction if something bad happened that would get her in trouble.

"Who said anything about _we_? _I_ didn't do anything. This is your fault. You should clean it up." Rosekit lifted her head and turned it away pointedly. Swiftkit's shoulders sagged a little at the clear refusal to help her, her tail falling to the ground, the dust catching in her fur. Her tail, at least, was beginning to resemble Gorseclaw's sandy coloured pelt, if not the rest of her body. "Fine," she meowed, her voice stiff as she turned her back on her sister and began to drag the kill back into the pile it had been. The mice were fine, and even the fish, but some bird species were almost as large as her with their wingspan. She disappeared behind the feathers of a thrush briefly, only resurfacing when the bird was safely with its comrades of other prey. Spitting out a mouthful of feathers – for she found that the wing she had tugged at was practically all feather, and no grip – she paused to take in the thrush. She wondered if it knew _her_ thrush. Maybe _her_ thrush had been catching that snail for this thrush, only, instead of returning to its nest to a mate, it would find the nest bare and cold.

Would it wait for this thrush to come back, keeping the snail in the nest in the hopes that this thrush was just out foraging, and would return home? How long would it take for it to come to the realisation that this thrush was not going to return, not ever? Would _her_ thrush pine for its mate, and mourn for its passing, or just move on, and get on with its life? Her exhilaration at being the RiverClan leader faded a little as she took in the thrush, a little kit that had just learned what her future actions of hunting would do in the world.

She shook her head roughly, and abruptly moved on to the next kill she had displaced from the pile, grumbling under her breath about her sister, the thoughts of the thrush wiped clean out of her head as she dragged a squirrel over to line the pile neatly with its tail, wondering where it came from briefly. It was just food to her, there was no point in thinking about it anymore. "You know," she mumbled through a mouthful of hair, eyeing Rosekit, "This would be much faster if you just helped me. If Mother catches you here, she's going to think _and _know that you had something to do with it. Just help Rosekit! It'll be faster." The white kit huffed and curled her tail around her paws, the action firmly placing her paws on the ground, as she made no move to approach her sister. "I didn't do anything Swiftkit, and out of the two of us, who do you think she's going to believe? Well?" Swiftkit glared at her in stony silence.

"This way, you'll learn not to do it again." Silence on the other end. "Well, don't you have anything to say?"

Rosekit raised her chin again, and was rewarded with a yowl from Swiftkit, quickly followed by a bound and a leap in succession, and once again, Rosekit found herself hitting the dirt, this time away from the fresh kill pile that the other had rearranged. The two kits rolled in the camp, the white delivering a kick with her two hind legs, not powerful enough to do damage, but enough to knock Swiftkit out of balance, and gain the upper paw. "I don't think I've learned anything," the larger she-cat grumbled, wiggling under her sister, her paws scrabbling at white fur to push it off her. Rosekit shoved her paws away with her own, meowing with laughter. "Tigerstar will always win!" she yowled, her teeth bared in what Swiftkit thought was supposed to be a menacing action. "You look like you're yawning Rosekit," she replied with a purr of amusement, batting at the other kit. Gravity made her helpless to the other kit, despite the smaller size, and she stopped wiggling underneath. She could feel the white paws lessen their pressure against her body, as Rosekit savoured her victory, and took her chance, launching herself up at the other kit, snatching her paws around the other's body, and entering into yet another tussle.

"Rosekit! Swiftkit! What in StarClan's name do you think you're doing?" The two froze in their bout, both heads turning towards the voice at the same time, each she-cat cringing to herself. Whitetail stared at the two scuffling kits, her tail draped over a smaller form beside her. Cottonkit stared at the ground, disappointment at being the first kit caught by their mother clearly evident. "I was…beating Tigerstar," Swiftkit explained after a heartbeat, a phrase which caused Rosekit to repeat her earlier movement, kicking out at the spotted kit and wiggling away to scramble to all fours. "Was not! No way were you besting me!" The white turned to their mother, the resemblance again noticed by Swiftkit. The other's jaw was tightened and hard to the eye, clearly defined even under the fur. She shot a glare at her sister, and then focused on the large she-cat. "She started it. Well, they both started it. I was just sitting there, and _then_ Swiftkit ruined the fresh kill pile!" Rosekit whined at Whitetail, trotting up to her and continuing to mumble in a mournful manner that was unable to be heard from Swiftkit's position. She eyed the mumbler sceptically, her head tilting a little to one side. Whining about it wasn't going to help her cause, and besides, if she had even taken a moment to look around, she would see that a small group of cats had gathered around long enough to watch the whole thing. They knew the truth.

Swiftkit could see Stonecloud lurking in the background of the group, and knew he had been there, mewing with laughter no doubt, at the trials and tribulations the kit had had to go through in order to prevent their antics being noticed. Well, it was a little too late for that, especially if Whitetail had seen the whole thing. At least she couldn't see the leader or deputy among the cats. They were probably elsewhere, doing important things that didn't concern Swiftkit in any way shape or form, as she well knew, since she was not allowed take part in Clan meetings. Another glance showed that Lionkit was not there either, a fact she was grateful of. Her brother and she were alike in coat colour, but the resemblance tended to stop there, and the two each thought the other was a pain in the tail. Had he seen the embarrassment of a scolding, he would never let her live it down. She could see it, even when they became warriors, her brother bringing it up, as he brought up every instance of troublemaking Swiftkit was involved in. She sighed quietly.

"Swiftkit, are you even listening to me?" The kit looked up, realising that while she had been seeking out and recognising different cats, her mother had been telling her off. She nodded quickly, padding up to Whitetail with a solemn expression. "I cleaned up the pile Mother," she began, dropping her eyes to the ground, "Sorry." Whitetail glanced about, observing the watching cats, before dipping her head to nose the kit's ear. "It's alright. Apology accepted. Just be careful when you're playing. Warriors and apprentices are busy and you just get in the way of everything." It was clear to the kit that the older didn't want to make a scene in front of the Clan, but her words still stung a little, and she couldn't help her tail droop as she stood before her mother. She didn't get in the way of everything. Usually she was pretty good when it came to avoiding the older Clan members, but sometimes she just got a little…distracted, and ran into things. Things, like the fresh-kill pile. Things, like other cats.

She mewed as she received a comforting nudge from Cottonkit. "Cheer up, little Sister, it's not like you were caught first. And I'm sure you were going to get the upper paw against Rosekit. Leopardstar is the great RiverClan leader, after all. No way was she going to be beaten by a smelly old tom cat." A purr rumbled in her throat, over the fact that the cat roleplaying Tigerstar was the least smelly of the three kits, and his words made her feel better about herself. "Now come on, I bet Lionkit is getting the elders to tell all your favourite stories," he continued, turning his head to Whitetail, "Can we go Mother? Please?" Almost instantly, the other two heads jerked towards the white queen, different eyes staring at her in a pleading manner. The queen shook her head, and then corrected herself as each kit sent out a squeak in her direction, bobbing her head pleasantly. "Alright…but no more attacking the fresh kill! There'll be time for that in a few moons."

Whitetail gave each kit a little nudge. Swiftkit touched her nose against her, and the three bounded for the Elders' den. Swiftkit noticed the group of cats that had been there were dispersing, Stonecloud still chuckling to himself as he moved to the pile to grab a mouse, followed a few tail lengths by a dark tabby she-cat. Her head twisted around to view them as they continued on their way, and paused as the she-cat hopped the couple of strides to the kit. She dropped a thrush in front of Swiftkit. "You can't go to the elders without something to eat. You'll be chased away with only half a tail left. Then what will your mother say?" Oakblaze meowed to herself in amusement at her own joking phrase, her tail flicking a little. Swiftkit picked up the bird at its wing joint, lifting it so that it was raised off the ground, aside from its other wing. "Thanks Oakblaze," she mumbled, the words barely coherent through the feathers. She clamped down on the thrush, and raced after her siblings, past the leader and deputy as they came into view. She could feel Runningstar's eyes on her back, but was lost in the moment of being the kit that remembered to bring a catch to the elders. Perhaps she wasn't old enough to contribute to the fresh kill pile just yet, but that still didn't take away the previous fact.

Swiftkit; the _almost _thrush catcher.


	3. Chapter 3 :: Drowning

**A/N; hello! Me again. Sorry for the delay, although I'm pretty sure I'll continue to be slow; lazy sickness and all that ^^ Thanks for the review, and please people, if you drop by, leave a review! I like reviews! Reviewing mine makes me likely to like you, and read and review your stuff. See? A wonderful circle. Anyway, enjoy. **

"_Can't you drown in your own territory?!"__  
__"Ah, but who would rescue me there?"_

What could she do, now that she had nothing to do?

Everything was quiet, for the most part. No voices carried over to her ears, from conversing cats, probably discussing exciting things like hunting, or fighting. If she strained to listen, and heard them, would she be allowed to join their conversation? No, she didn't think so. She was too young to be introduced to the frightening world where cats left the camp in the morning, alive and well, and returned on the back of a fellow warrior, dead. It didn't matter anyway, that she wouldn't be invited to listen in on what they were talking about, because the fact of the matter was, no one was talking. Night had fallen over the RiverClan camp, and all that reached her ears was the occasional shuffle as a cat rolled over in its nest, and ruffled whatever material had made it.

Nothing else. She couldn't even hear night sounds, like the hoot of an owl, or the squeak of some nocturnal creature, out to forage or hunt now that the danger of cats had, at least for the moment, diminished somewhat. Swiftkit had never seen her camp at night. Most of the time, she slept through the night, blissfully content in whatever dream she was having. She rarely remembered her dreams, though she was fairly certain that they were exciting dreams, involving her being the best hunter of the Clan, or the best swimmer, or the greatest fighter that ever lived. In the dreams she did remember, she tended to be a giant, her paws more powerful than any of the cats in the forest, and the size of Stonecloud's head, if not larger. The stripes on her legs were more pronounced than her own pattern could ever hope to be, and her fur shone russet and black.

In her dreams, she was a member of TigerClan, and she was feared for her ferocity.

Careful not to wake her mother, Swiftkit rolled a little in the nest, to stare up at the nursery's top, woven to keep most of the rain out, but containing a few gaps to let the light in. In this case, it was the pale moonlight that Swiftkit viewed, easy on her eyes and casting shadows around the nursery that flicked about in time with the sleeping movements of the queens and their kits. Yes, Swiftkit had never seen the camp at night, and she knew why. The shadows scared her. The night, at least at her young age, was a place of mysterious, and all that she thought was familiar to her was thrown out of proportion. In the darkness of the night, all sorts of things could be lurking and waiting for their chance to snatch her away from Whitetail's side.

Things like, the mud monster.

Swiftkit shrank closer to her mother's body as the thought came into her head, the shadows curling around the nursery in unwanted patterns. The monsters of the night had come out to play, and the mud monster was their leader. She squeezed her eyes shut, blocking out everything for a heartbeat, and then snapped them back open again. She couldn't close her eyes; that was a bad idea that would cause the monsters to get her. She kept her eyes open, wide and unblinking, staring into the shadows that the moon had caused. It was a wretched thing, letting these monsters frighten her. Why couldn't it scare the mud monster away?

She had tried to act so tough around the medicine cat, but that had got her nowhere. She could pretend to be something in the light of day, but it was not her time to be awake now. The mud monster was awake, and squelching through the bank of the river that gurgled so close by. It was real, she just knew it. Her heart quickened, fluttering in her chest. Was that a groan she could hear, coming from the riverbed? The drip of mud on mud, was that him, dragging along the banks, floundering through the mud like she did every day during her swimming lesson? The shadows danced around her, mocking her fear, waiting for their leader to arrive, a trail of mud following him. It would trap her in the mud, and pull her back to the river, and she would drown, and that would be the end of her. No one would know what happened. There would just be a trail of mud from her warm nest to the cold watery depths.

Swiftkit was too frightened to even squeak. She was going to die. She was going to be like those elders that were laid to rest outside the island camp, only, she wouldn't even get that honour. She doubted the mud monster would even give her the dignity of being found. It would never allow her to float to the top of the river once she was dead, like the dead fish with the glassy eyes that Cottonkit threw in the river as 'prey' to catch while practising swimming. She would be a dead cat in the gurgling river, and probably wouldn't be caught in the riverbed until she was miles downriver of camp, and then it would be too late for her to go where all the fallen RiverClan members were sent, to the other bank.

Something touched her side.

"ARGH! -." The sound was cut off by the something slamming her muzzle shut. She tried to meow for help, squirming away from the thing that had her in its grasp. Her efforts caused her to receive a sharp dig in the back, and brought out a sharp exhale through her nose. She froze in the spot, her heart bursting. The mud monster had her, and she couldn't even open her jaws to give it a bite before she was killed.

"Shut up, you fool." Swiftkit closed her eyes at the whisper that hissed in her ear, wondering why the monster was even bothering to talk to her. Did it talk to all its food before it killed and ate it? A thought occurred to her; was she supposed to talk to her food? Could fish even understand her? She didn't think she was even able to speak underwater, though she had never tried. As soon as she was made an apprentice, she was going to ask her mentor…But she was never going to get that chance now. This monster was going to eat her. Should she ask it for advice? It had a nice voice after all, even if its words were the opposite. The voice sounded suspiciously familiar as well. Suspiciously…familial.

Swiftkit opened her eyes, and tilted her head slightly towards the place the voice had appeared from. In the gloom she could pick out a furry face. Mud monsters didn't have fur; they were made of mud, hence the name. They were slimy and disgusting and scary, not furry. She blinked again, and her whiskers twitched a little as they took in what was clamping her jaws tightly together. That was also furry, and definitely not dripping mud and ooze. She watched the paw slowly lift away from her.

"Cottonkit, you idiot, you scared me!" she whispered to the furred face, recognising her brother's eyes in the gloom. Her heart still refused to slow itself, even though the threat of the monster had been diminished. She squirmed a little away from him, and again a sharp dig stabbed at her back, poking her through the short fur.

"Would you quit it?" she growled, narrowing her eyes to glare at Cottonkit.

"Quit what? You're the one that shoved me and woke me up!"

"Quit_ poking_ me, mousebrain," Swiftkit hissed.

"I'm not poking you. You must be imagining it – and keep your voice down. You'll wake everyone else."

"You are doing it! I'm not imagining it; I can feel you digging into my back. If you'd just let me move away, it'd be fine, but _no_, you have to keep following me."

Cottonkit sighed, bringing up his paw to swipe at his sister's nose in exasperation. "I'm _not_, I swear to StarClan. See? My paw is here. Fish-head."

Swiftkit wrinkled her nose up in response to the hit, tempted to retaliate with an attack of her own. Fear of waking up Whitetail was the only thing that stopped her. She didn't want to get in trouble again, even though she had been good since her small public humiliation a week ago. She had stayed in the nursery to avoid treading on cats' paws, and hadn't even provoked Rosekit by throwing mud at her. She was a prime example of a kit for all those who had never had kits yet, as long as those she-cats had never met her before the past week. She was trying to be good, as good as her sister. A good RiverClan cat.

"Okay," she meowed reluctantly, "If you swear on Star -."

"I _do_ swear," Cottonkit cut in quickly.

"Right. I caught that the first time. But if you aren't poking me…then who is?"

Her heart was doing the fluttery thing again, making her feel like she had eaten something rotten and was going to get sick in the nest. She met Cottonkit's eyes with her own, watching them widen until the resembled something like a mirror image of how she was feeling, and how she probably looked. It had her. After this whole week of trying so hard to be a good kit, and not throwing the mud that was its home, it had come for her anyway. Being good was a terrible plan. If she was just doing what she always did, no way would the mud monster dare come and drown her in the river. It would be too frightened of her before, but now, because she hadn't destroyed its home, it probably had become brave enough to take her.

"Don't panic Swiftkit. I'll save you," Cottonkit meowed, his words fast and trembling. She thought he was probably saying those words to comfort himself, and to stop him from panicking and running around like a headless squirrel. "I believe you," Swiftkit answered; a lie, told for the same reason her brother had spoken previously. Any second now it was going to wrap itself around her and drag her away from the nice warm nest. She would never be a warrior. She would never see her Clanmates again. "Just breathe, Swiftkit!" She couldn't breathe properly. How could anyone breathe properly, in this situation? That was a terrible bit of advice. She hoped that her sibling would never be a mentor to an apprentice when he was older. That sort of advice was just asking for trouble.

Her head followed him as he shuffled a little, and then started to bat the shape that lay on the other side of him. "Lionkit! Wake up, wake up! Swiftkit is in trouble!" Cottonkit's squeaks were barely loud enough to reach the other side of the nursery, but the use of his paw was enough incentive for their brother to grumble in his sleep as he woke. True to his name, Lionkit had grown in size faster than any of the other kits, and had overtaken Swiftkit and Cottonkit, who had been larger, half a moon ago. He was strong too. He would help her escape the mud monster's clutches, of that she was sure.

"What're you doing? Go away," Lionkit mumbled, swatting at the white paw that whacked his face with even more force. "Help," Cottonkit meowed into his ear, emphasising his point with a hard swipe that made the large kit open his eyes and flash a paw at the white in defence. "It's dark, Cottonkit. You're supposed to sleep when it's dark. That's why it's dark; so you don't have lights and _paws_ in your eyes." Lionkit continued to grumble under his breath.

"Swiftkit has been caught by the mud monster; Brother, you're the strongest, you have to help save her." The white tom's words were feverish, fear for Swiftkit making his squeaks more high-pitched than usual. The words made Swiftkit shiver. Her brother, the one who didn't fear anything, was frightened. If he was frightened, that meant that Swiftkit really should be frightened. She wiggled again, and the digging sensation followed her, rubbing along her back painfully, and meowed for the brothers. "Alright Swiftkit, no need to worry, your big brother is here to save the day. As usual. You will owe me a huge favour once you're safe, you know, which I will pick up at a later date. Understood?" Lionkit's words were raspy and dry as he stared at his sister. The she-cat glared at him. "Just hurry up and help me before I drown. You'll have woken up for nothing otherwise."

Lionkit shook his head, nosing the she-cat and rolling her further into the grasp of the monster it seemed. The digging sensation was all over her now, clawing at her fur and trapping her. "You aren't helping!" she yelped, squirming to get free of the tangle she was in, "It's got me! Tell Mother I love her, and Rosekit too! I love you, Cottonkit – Lionkit, I want to kill you!" She had reached the point that was past the point of being too frightened to speak. Being too frightened implied that there was hope. There was no hope now. Apparently, StarClan wished for her to go to meet them like this. What a terrible way to die, prey to another.

"Swiftkit, I'm not sure if anyone's told you this, but you, sister, are a mousebrained fool."

The she-cat froze at Lionkit's words, her eyes glaring at the large tom kit, whose paws were sinking into Cottonkit's fur. The two had become tangled while trying to reach Swiftkit, and avoid waking the large, sleeping form of their mother who took up a little less than half the nest. "What," she hissed, "are you talking about?" Lionkit mrrowed quietly with laughter, darting his gaze to Whitetail and Rosekit to ensure they were still sleeping, before glancing back and tilting his head. "Both of you are fools," he continued, dropping his eyes to view the white kit at his chest, "Before you _woke me up_, did neither of you bother to check _what_ was getting you?"

Cottonkit meowed quietly in protest, heaving upwards to shove the larger off him. Gravity, being the terrible concoction of nature that it was, won, and he slumped back down onto the nest floor, his eyes narrowed. "I'm not a fool, and you never answered Swiftkit; what _are_ you talking about? Get your paws off me anyway!" Swiftkit ignored her brothers as they manoeuvred themselves about; her heart was still beating far too fast. What did he mean about 'what' was getting her? It was the mud monster of course! Nothing else lived around RiverClan waiting to drown cats. Although, it was true that she was lying in the nest for far too long. The monster should have killed her ages ago. She took a breath. Maybe she wasn't dying. She twisted her head around to examine what was actually trapping her. "Twigs," she whispered, feeling the sharp branches twist around her fur to scratch at her skin. Cottonkit glanced up and over at her. "Twigs?" he repeated doubtfully, "Why are twigs trying to eat you, Swiftkit?"

"Cottonkit, please don't ever repeat those words to anyone," Lionkit groaned, shaking his head, "Do I have to be the logical one here? Swiftkit clearly just moved around too much and got caught in the nest under the feathers." The tabby sighed, stepping over Cottonkit to sit beside his sister. Swiftkit lay still as he clawed at the twigs that trapped her, her eyes fixed on Whitetail. The queen was still sound asleep in the corner, her body rising and falling in a soothing manner with each breath she took, blissfully unaware of her kits' predicament. Swiftkit hoped she received her mother's ability to sleep through noise. "Logical one? More like the bossy one," she growled, flattening her ears as he moved one stick the wrong way, pulling some fur out, "Watch it!"

"Why were you even awake, Swiftkit? Were you thinking about what Runningstar said earlier?" Lionkit muttered in a loud whisper, his claws digging into the twigs and throwing them out of the nest. It would have to be fixed of course, the kits knew that. Swiftkit wrinkled her nose in disgust at the twigs that had ensnared her, loathing the sharp, spiky, horrible little parts of the tree. They would save her life if the river flooded at the nursery bend, the floating nests protecting her from the dangerous waters, but the river wasn't flooding now. Why couldn't they make it a temporary thing? Nests like the other Clans most of the time, and these stupid twigs during new-leaf, when the run-off came from wherever the river started? She hissed again as a twig yanked fur out.

"No, I wasn't thinking about that. I was bored. I was thinking that when I'm an apprentice, I'm going to be better than the three of you," she finally answered, nodding half to herself. Cottonkit chuckled beside her. "You? The best? I don't think so. You never listen to orders. Whoever has you for a mentor is going to wish they had _me_." Swiftkit shot him a glare, her eyes narrowed. "Yes, they'll really want the apprentice that thinks twigs eat cats," she meowed, watching him smugly as he hung his head in shame.

"Well, _I _was thinking about it. I want to be a part of it."

"Well you can't fish-head; just because you're bigger than us, doesn't mean you're older. You're still a little kit."

"I bet those mangy warriors would think I was an apprentice, sister. They wouldn't know what hit them."

"Yes they would, and where would that get you? You'd be bowled over into the river in a heartbeat."

"Less than a heartbeat," Cottonkit chipped in after Swiftkit, pushing Lionkit with his paw, "I don't think it's a good idea to be part of it…you heard Berryfall talking about it after…she lost her mate in a previous fight." The white tom fell silent, and Swiftkit followed suit, thinking about what her brothers had said. Lionkit was right; it would be exciting to be taking part in a battle, but the words the old grey she-cat had said earlier still ran through her mind. Berryfall still obviously mourned for her mate, and Swiftkit knew that the battle he was slain in was the push that the elder had needed to make the choice to retire from warrior duties. She glanced at Lionkit. Did he think about the consequences of running into battle unprepared? He was supposed to be logical; perhaps he was thinking that his namesake for the great Clan would protect him. LionClan would help him to be brave. LionClan would help him survive.

Nothing would help him to survive though, except the training he would receive from his mentor. Was he feeling so much like a hero that he would sneak out of camp and follow the warriors that left at dawn? Swiftkit wasn't sure, but her brother had saved her from the mud monster, real or imaginary, and she owed him a favour. She would save him from himself, and stop him from stalking the battle patrol. They would be even then. She gave a short yawn, the fear of her life threatening scenario exhausting her. "Look," she whispered, prodding the kits, "it's getting lighter outside. Dawn will be here soon, and I want to be awake to see the patrol off. We should sleep." Swiftkit wanted to be able to say goodbye to the cats that went to meet ThunderClan. What if Gorseclaw didn't come back? Or Dreamstorm? This would be her first battle as a warrior, but Swiftkit wanted the she-cat back in one piece. She didn't mind speaking to the kits about apprenticeship.

Lionkit flattened his ears to his head. "I was asleep. You woke me up. If I sleep through this, I'm blaming you," he growled, dropping down against the feathers with a slight wriggle to get comfortable. "We can watch from here," he added, settling his head on his front paws, "Our first battle to see." His eyes gleamed in the faint moonlight as he looked at Swiftkit, before they closed. Cottonkit gave her a quick lick on the shoulder. "He's right," he whispered, curling up beside Lionkit, "How exciting to see Runningstar reclaim what is ours."

The she-cat lay down next to her brothers, listening to the low rumbling of breath that came from each of them, and glancing up at the nursery roof crack. Runningstar had been so angry when he had called the Clan meeting earlier. Swiftkit had peeked through the nursery entrance as Ashfeather, the orange deputy, relayed what he had found. ThunderClan scent had been smelled around the rocks recently, and the border patrol had found a bloody adder left on the rocks earlier in the day. Her heart had raced when Runningstar said they would meet whatever ThunderClan patrol, and make them remember that RiverClan ruled the rocks.

She closed her eyes, her breathing becoming slow.

She drifted off, her mind whirring with one thought;

Sunningrocks was _theirs._


End file.
